Business Unfinished
by AssortedScribbler
Summary: Eddie wants to understand why Rachel is so determined to leave. Episode 9 tag. Reddie.


**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Zilch. Nada.

**A/N:** I haven't watched Episode 9 from Series 4 in a long time, but at about five o'clock this morning, I suddenly felt like watching it and this spilled out. It carries straight on from the conversation with Candice, Bolton and Eddie in her office, when Candice's final words to her are "Look, Miss Mason, Bolton listens to you." I've always thought the look she gives Eddie meant the first piece of dialogue I've written here, and I just hope you agree.

**Summary:** Eddie wants to understand why Rachel is so determined to leave. Episode 9 tag. Reddie.

**Business Unfinished**

Rachel tried to keep the weariness out of her expression as she closed the door behind Candice, desperately avoiding the thought that she was shutting the door on people who needed her help. Determinedly, she told herself again that she was doing the right thing, that this was the only way to pay the debt of Maxine's death. Then she raised her eyes to Eddie and caught the look on his face. Disapproval, mostly, but also curiosity, and she knew he had figured out there was more to her insistence on leaving than she had revealed.

"Don't start, Eddie." She said, moving away from the door and gliding past him, delicately taking her seat behind her desk, avoiding looking up because she knew he could read her thoughts in her eyes.

"Don't start what?" He shot back, his tone verging on irritated although she knew that was not what he actually felt. His anger was a cover, perhaps for a similar desperation to hers – but to persuade her to stay, rather than to leave as her mind was doing.

"Whatever you're thinking about trying to get me to stay. It won't work." Her tone was quiet, but firm, her head still lowered to the file sat on her desk.

"Your mind's made up?" He didn't sound convinced, but she didn't have the energy to fight him on this again. She nodded, shifting a paper sideways and swallowing the guilt at the thought of the boy she'd tried so hard with, now beyond her reach, sat outside her office door. "So all the people that are counting on you, all the people that have trusted you, that still do trust you – they don't matter?" He was angry, and part of her acknowledged maybe he had some small right to be, but she would not let him change her mind.

"I'm not arguing with you." She said calmly, determined not to make this day any harder than it already was, for her and for him. Rachel knew, in her mind, had prepared for this day since coming to her decision, knowing how difficult it would be to say goodbye. One of the reasons she hadn't told him until a godforsaken hour last night. But it had to be done, she had to leave. And she knew leaving Eddie would be the hardest thing of all. Despite knowing in the long run it was for the best, part of her screamed with pain at the thought of leaving him behind.

"Rachel, I don't understand." Eddie finally admitted, and in her mind's eye, she could see him shaking his head, his shoulders slumping just a little further than usual as he tried to come to terms with her decision. He honestly believed she was a good thing for this place, and she appreciated that, but the drive she had possessed was gone. She didn't have the strength left to fight, to overcome her insecurities.

"I don't expect you to, Eddie. Just accept and move on. You'll get used to the thought soon enough." Rachel told him, trying to not make obvious the lump in her throat as she thought about never again sitting behind this desk, never seeing him stroll in of his own free will and give her _that_ smile.

"All the months and months we've been friends, and I don't even qualify as worthy of an explanation?" Rachel sighed as he used the only possible card that could draw a reaction from her. Guilt. It was unfair that he used their relationship against her, but she realised he was running out of options.

"You don't need one and it's simpler if you don't ask. I'm asking you, Eddie, please to just let me do this." Her tone was a little too close to pleading for her liking, lacking the strength she knew it needed, and she wasn't surprised when she heard him emit a frustrated sigh. Still, she refused to look at him, her gaze focussed on her paperwork, and hopefully the tremble in her hand as she tried to hold her pen steady wasn't as noticeable as she felt it was. In her peripheral vision, she saw him move towards her, around the desk, to lean on the inside of it, pushing them into each other's personal space.

"Rachel, I need to know why you're doing this. Why would you want to leave so many people who need you? So many of the kids, the staff, all look up to you – they're looking to you for strength, guidance, and you're running away. Do you really have no idea how much you mean to this place? How much you mean to the people here?" His voice was ragged, almost harsh, searching determinedly for some kind of reaction that might guide him into finding a weak point he could exploit. But she remained staring at the paper before her, her jaw clenched and her expression tensed. "How much you mean to me?" He whispered, finally, and despite her own mind's commands, she finally turned to look at him.

Their eyes locked, both gazes diving into the other's as they looked for something, anything, in the other's gaze. Rachel swallowed hurriedly, tears on the point of gathering on her bottom eyelid and he could probably tell from the way her throat convulsed that she was fighting back the urge to let them flow down her cheeks. He looked so pained, so lost, and she realised for the first time perhaps just how much he needed her still.

His eyes skimmed over her face, his gaze soft and yearning, full of emotion, and Rachel was practically consumed by the desire to reach out, to assure him, anything to get rid of the terrible pain she found in his chocolate gaze. Her expression betrayed her conflict and he did what she was afraid to – he reached out and laid his hand on top of hers, trying to provide the reassurance she would never ask for, wanting too much to heal the pain he found in her eyes as well.

The contact, skin to skin, made her gasp and she closed her eyes at last, lowered her head so the flood of need that washed over her would not be made obvious to him. The last thing she wanted now was to make this even more complicated. He was engaged to her sister. He loved her sister. Her desires did not matter, as long as he and Melissa were happy. Without her eyes open to monitor him, she was not prepared for the next move he made.

She heard him shift closer, she felt his grip around her hand, which felt so tiny in his grasp, tighten, and she tried to calm herself as dizziness from his mere presence so close sent her mind spinning. Suddenly, she felt his lips on her skin, grazing her forehead, warmth surrounding her the minute she registered the touch. The kiss felt deep, and she tilted her head up slightly under the pressure, trying to persuade herself the movement did not encourage him.

His breath billowed across her face, shifting her fringe away from her eyes, as she had to bite her lip to prevent the whimper in her throat from being voiced as he ended the caress and broke away from her forehead. Her mind was blank, silent, for the first time since she'd received that angry and tearful phone call from Steph. Her every sense was attuned to Eddie, trying to guess what would come next but at the same time just treasuring this moment that she so desperately needed.

Gently, carefully, Eddie scooped up her hand from the desk and drew it upwards, placing it delicately on his shoulder, and as her fingertips dug a little into the fabric of his jacket, she could feel his warmth through the material. Rachel kept her eyes closed, part of her only just daring to believe this could be a daydream, let alone actually happening. A few seconds later, she became aware of a light touch at her waist, the sliding of his fingers and palm around her middle until he had curved his arm around her completely. The pressure made her breath hitch more times than she cared to count.

He applied a slight pull and she had no choice but to respond, letting him guide her upwards to standing, before pulling her into a loving hug. There was no other way to describe it, that embrace was everything that she could have possibly hoped for – tender, caring and begging her to let him help. Finally releasing the damn on her control, she sank into him and buried her face in his neck, his comforting scent finally setting her twisted emotions into a calmer mix. Soap, textbooks and a hint of something wooden, like pencil sharpenings, a welcoming and steady smell that was undeniably Eddie engulfed her and she breathed it in deeply.

She had needed the strength he offered for too long, needed the assurance of being held more than she ever would have admitted, and for a minute or two she let him hold her. Let him support her. Let him carry the troubles she no longer had the determination to bare. He tucked both his arms further around her, recognising no doubt the loss of weight she'd sustained in just the last week, and his cheek nuzzled against her hair, so obviously trying to pass on the comfort she needed.

Another few moments passed, and she finally managed to regain her grip on her weakness, opening her eyes and unwrapping her arms from where they had clutched around his shoulders, drawing away from the one man she would ever be able to share this sort of moment with. The way he barely loosened his hold on her said quite clearly how reluctant he was to let her move away and if she could have drawn up the effort, she would have smiled.

Then, just as she was about to apply a little pressure to his chest, telling him without words to let her go, one arm twitched and moved, slipping from around her to rise, his fingertips now hovering level with her cheek. Flashing, her eyes flicked from his hand to his eyes, worried about what he intended. After a second that he used to, she guessed, steel himself, he moved his fingers forward that half an inch and brushed them lightly over her cheekbone, before smoothing his thumb over the skin beneath her eye. The gesture once again drew her eyelids shut, too beautiful not to concentrate on.

"Rach," he whispered, and she felt the very tips of the edge of her mouth finally tip upwards slightly in response to the affectionate nickname. "Please, stay." He was begging, she knew, and she had never been more tempted than she was now – but that in itself was wrong; Eddie was marrying her sister, they should not be in this position and she should not be aching for him to close the gap between them. Drawing on a strength of will she had not found before now, she dragged her eyes open and found his, her pain reflected in his darker pools.

"I can't Eddie." She whispered, around the lump in her throat.

"We need you, Rach. I need you." Never before had she witnessed Eddie look so desperate. But she could not give in to this, it would only spell disaster. She tilted her head into the touch from his fingers and closed her eyes briefly once more, savouring the touch because she knew she would never feel it again. Then she lifted one of her own hands from his body and curled her fingers around the hand still at her cheek, soaking up the emotions she knew both of them were swimming in just then.

Slowly, she softly raised his hand from her cheek and turned her head, pressing a deep kiss to the palm that had held her. She tried, with that kiss, to say everything she should have done in those moments. Her thanks, for him being everything he could have during their relationship, for trying, for helping, for being simply him. Her regret, that she wished things were different, that their paths could have been changed, that they might have been in a different situation right now. Her sadness, that this was the only course left to her now, and the wish it did not pain him as much as it did.

Then, without a word, she pressed his hand against her face once more for a second, then slid from his grasp, around the desk, and out of her office. She didn't dare look back.


End file.
